


Fall to Pieces

by heeroluva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Crying, Forced Feminization, Gaslighting, Humiliation, M/M, Mind Manipulation, Mindfuck, Name-Calling, Stomach Bulge, monster cock, small cock humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-06 03:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20284723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: Peter's first fight with Mysterio ends a bit differently...





	Fall to Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pleurer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleurer/gifts).

“If you were good enough then maybe Tony would still be alive.” Mysterio’s words echo through Peter, a proverbial knife to the heart.

Peter screams as the ruined wreckage of Iron Man, of Tony rises from the grave, and tells himself again that this isn’t real, that this is just an illusion, a high tech hologram, something Mysterio had programed.

The world shifts again, and he screams again, heart threatening to beat out of his chest as he falls again, landing painfully on his back, adding to his bruises. He’s in a completely white room, barren, sterile. Something rises up beneath him, a bench of some sort, wraps around his thighs and ankles, his wrists and arms, his neck and chest, holding him in place, and suddenly Tony is there, not the horrifying rotting mess that Mysterio had just shown him, but Tony whole and so very much alive.

No, no, Peter closes his eyes, shakes his head, denying it. This isn’t real. Can’t be real. Tony died. He saw it.

“Closing your eyes isn’t going to help you, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes snap open because that wasn’t Mysterio’s voice.

“He’s right you know,” Tony begins conversationally. “You’re not good enough, strong enough, just a weak little boy.” He closes the distance between them and tugs off Peter’s mask, throwing it aside as he begins to cut off Peter’s outfit.

“Mr. Stark, please, I don’t understand.”

“Bad boys don’t speak unless spoken to.”

“What—”

The smack rattles his teeth, and makes the world go out of focus for a moment, his mouth filling with the taste of blood as he raises wounded eyes to Tony who’s now cutting through his pants, and in a matter of seconds his naked body’s exposed.

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, his brain stuck on repeat like a broken record, spinning in the same circle again and again. This is just a nightmare, not real, not real, when he opens his eyes everything will be okay. He just needs to wake up. Peter’s eyes snap open when Tony speaks, his eyes going huge with horrified disbelief.

“You disappoint me, Peter. Here I thought you’d have more fight in you,” Tony says as he strokes his cock.

The giggle that rises from Peter is half-hysterical, certain that the monster rising between Tony’s legs would look more at home on a horse, practically a third leg. The bench holding him suddenly moves, shifting beneath him, spreading his legs, and Peter shakes his head wildly, seeing where this is going. This can’t be happening. Please wake up.

The cock when it presses between Peter’s thighs might have been comical in another situation, the impossible size of it, but right now Peter has never been more terrified in his life. “Please—” Peter breaks off with a scream as Tony shoves into him, white hot agony stealing his breath as he strains ineffectively against his binding, the stretch, the pressure, the burn of it stealing his breath as he feels like a balloon stretched over a fire hydrant.

“I’m doing this for you Peter. What doesn’t break you makes you stronger.”

Tears stream down Peter’s face as he watches, the look of pleasure on Tony’s face something that will haunt him always. Tony keeps thrusting, deeper and deeper, and Peter can’t help but sob softly, certain that he’s being ripped open, irreversibly damaged. He screams when his pelvis cracks, sobbing wildly as he struggles anew, watching with fascinated revulsion as his stomach bulges larger and larger and larger, Tony’s monster cock clearly visible rising from his middle, certain he’s going to pop at any moment. Death by cock is certainly not one of the ways that Peter had ever expected to go. The fullness is all consuming, and he thinks hysterically that he hadn’t realized he was empty until now.

Tony pulls out then, and somehow that’s worse, Peter’s body tightly clinging to Tony’s cock, and he’s certain he’s going to be pulled inside out. He wants to scream for help, beg for it to stop, but Peter’s the hero here. If he can’t save himself, how can he expected someone else to do it?

The pace Tony sets is brutal, the thrusts long and teeth jarringly hard, Peter’s entire body jerking with each impact of Tony’s against him. “Such a tight little cunt. Should have done this ages ago. You always lapped up the attention like a dog starved for affection.”

The pain doesn’t fade, makes it more difficult for him to convince himself that this isn’t real, isn’t happening, but it somehow gets more bearable. The thought that he’s getting used to it makes him shake his head in denial. And just when he thinks that things can’t possibly get any worse, he feels the familiar rush of heat in his groin, and he sobs, wishing he could cover his face as dick beings to stiffen, slowly growing, his body betraying him completely.

“Well, will you look at that. I’m impressed, Peter. Who would have ever guessed what a little masochist you are.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, turns his head away when Tony’s hand closes over his dick.

Tony whistles suddenly and laughs mockingly, and Peter can’t help but jump, flinches as he tightens around Tony’s cock, adding to his pain as his dick twitches in Tony’s grip, held between thumb and forefinger. “Well if this little clit doesn’t confirm that you were destined to be a bottom boy. My bottom boy. How do you like the sound of that Peter?”

Peter burns with humiliation at Tony’s words. He wasn’t really that small, was he? Compared to the monster that Tony is fucking him with him, yes, but taking a look down, the way that Tony holds him as though he’s something disgusting, there’s no denying it. Despite being harder than he’s ever been in his life, his cock leaking a near continuous stream of clear precum, he’s dwarfed by Tony’s hand.

Please stop, Peter wants to beg, head shaking in denial as a new wave of sobs bubbles up from his throat. Worst of all, Peter can feel the familiar tightening in his groin, an indication that despite the pain and humiliation, a part of him is getting off on this, enjoying this.

“Since you’re halfway to a girl already, why don’t we make it official?”

Peter’s confused for a moment before a heat spreads across his chest and he watches with horror, eyes huge, mouth falling open in disbelief as his pecs swell, his nipples growing larger as his chest balloons.

“That’s a good look on you, Peter,” Tony say. “Here, let me show you.”

A mirror suddenly appears floating above Peter, and he wants to look away, but he can’t, struggling to make sense of what he’s seeing. That’s not him, can’t be him. His hair is longer than it’s ever been, his face softer, mouth larger, and his breasts—his mind freezes, uncomprehending.

Tony reaches out suddenly, groping Peter’s new breasts, fingers sinking deep into the flesh, and Peter cries out—except that isn’t his voice—attempting to arch against his restraints. There’s an unfamiliar heat low in his belly, and then suddenly he’s shaking in pleasure unlike any orgasm he’s ever had before, body tightening around Tony’s cock before his insides convulse like they’re trying to milk it.

Tony groans suddenly, his thrusts faltering, growing unsteady, and Peter comes again as a flood of warmth fills him, his stomach bloating larger as Tony fills him with an impossible amount of cum.

His eyes are glassy, starting at nothing when Tony finally pulls out, not even noticing the gush of fluid that follows as his body gapes, broken and used.

“What a pity. I thought you’d last longer.” The world flickers suddenly, and Tony’s replaced by a number of drones, Mysterio standing in the distance, wiping his hand on his pants as he tucks his soft cock back in him pants. “Thanks for the ride, Peter. We’ll have to do it again sometime.”


End file.
